Transformers-First Breath
by PowerBoi
Summary: A Tokusatsu-inspired AU that takes place on post-apocalyptic Cybertron- a wasteland ruled by Vehicons. But one Vehicon unwittingly gains sentience and slowly begins to question his place in this regime. Inspired by Logan's Run, Mad Max and Beast Machines.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1- ****_Welcome To The Apocalypse._****  
**  
_Millions of years ago, on the distant planet Cybertron, a mysterious cosmic phenomena known only as the Black Dust descended upon the once peaceful planet, draining it's resources dry. Shaken by the rapid decay of their once-plentiful paradise, the population descended into feudal anarchy, their society splitting off into various baronies scattered all across the now lifeless cities. _

Sifting through the decaying rubble, an ebony and lavender mechanoid searched the deserted ruins with a strange scanning device. It's optics flashed with intrigue, uncovering a black square case beneath the rubble. Pulling the case from the rubble, the mechanoid carried it over to another one of its' kind, presenting the mechanoid with it's find. The mechanoid in charge nodded before ordering, "Throw it on the pyre. Straxus' orders." Obediently, the other mechanoid walked over to a mound of flaming cartridges before throwing the newly acquired item onto the fire. Silently, the machine stood by, watching that piece of information burn. The flames scorched his optics, before he turned his back, avoiding the flame's vicious glare as he began following behind a contingent of similarly clad machines.

As they marched, the drones began to chatter amongst themselves, no doubt some of them were unable to deal with the almost deafening silence. '..Anyone wondered what happened to the other baronies?' '..Probably would've torn each other apart..' 'Damn wasteland...can't see a thing' 'Could be worse, right?' But at the back of the crowd, the inquisitive drone found himself haunted by the burning film. Concerned, the drone's friend tapped on the drone's shoulder before saying, "You alright, M-38?" The drone shook himself awake before answering, "I-I'm fine, sir." But just then, the leader at the head of the drone squadron checked over the horizon, seeing an ominous tower over that moonlit horizon, beforeannouncing to the drones, "Alright Vehicon Squad Alpha, welcome to Darkmount." The drones kept marching ahead, their steps made harder by the uneven terrain of rock and ash. To them, this was their home.

As the drones marched inside the castle, they were greeted with only silence. Inside the tower, the atmosphere was almost gothic in mood. Darkness shrouded the halls. Candles and flickering lights lit the stairway as the drones made their way to the lower levels. Some of the drones were spooked from the foreboding, almost sinister presence that seemed to surround them from every nook, every cranny and every corner. Such was the threat of this castle's master, who watched them from a higher place.

As the drones were crowded around a large ballroom, the chatter went dim as a dark blue mechanoid knocked his sceptre against the floor to get their attention. But his voice boomed across the room. "Welcome home, my children. In these wicked times, it makes me proud to have such loyal subjects amongst you. For several vorns, I have served as your guiding intellect. I served as your father. Your protector. Your salvation from the accursed wasteland. And from the ills of our forefathers." M-38 listened attentively, trying to ignore the flickering flames that raged uneasily in his spark. "The ills of science. Of free will. Of philosophy. I, as your protector and your father, have treated you, my children, as if all of you were an extension of my spark. And in return, all I ask from you is your obedience and your devotion. The many forms of information you purge from this world are merely dust-ridden relics, to be purified by the arbiters of change. You are the future of this world, my children. You are the materials I need to forge a new world order. You are the stepping stones for uniting all the infidels under our strong, benevolent rule. Understand that an enemy of progress is your enemy! The scientist, the thinker, the weak, the sick, they are all your enemy!" All of a sudden, the chamber walls echoed with the frightening cheer coming from the crowd. M-38 looked around him, his optics wide open with shock. Fellow comrades he knew, friends even...all bending to the will of a shadowy overseer. And that thought, more than anything, shook him to his core.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2- Making Music.**

* * *

As M-38 walked out from the tower's gates, his audio receptors tingled. Pausing for a moment, he tried concentrating on this specific signal. But as he listened closely, he swore he could hear music somewhere. Driven by primordial curiousity, Unit M-38 could not stop himself from converting into vehicle mode and driving southward. As he drove to the scene, he began asking himself, 'What..what am I doing? Why can't I stop myself from driving?" Struggling for control, Unit M-38 tried to stop himself from his current path, only for him to lose control. As he transformed back into robot mode, M-38 found himself careening into a rock wall, knocking himself offline.

Regaining consciousness, M-38 pulled himself from the wreckage before trying to scan the area. All the while, he was still hearing that same music from before. Searching through the ruins, M-11 then uncovered what looked like an antiquated radio blurting out a series of nonsensical words. "Krzch-hellooo, fellow survivors! This is your ol' pal Master Blaster comin' at 'cha...' At first, M-38 felt compelled to destroy the radio. Lord Straxus warned his kind of this kind of sorcery, he said. That it would corrupt their circuits. But try as he might, M-38 found himself unable to do so, feeling strangely intrigued by the words coming out from the radio. "...I love those dear hearts and gentle people...who live in my home town..." Gently, M-38 placed the radio down before listening to this strange music. "...they read the good book, from Fri 'til Monday, that's how the weekend goes. [how it goes]..." As he listened to the music, Unit M-38 found himself tapping a foot to the music. It seemed so calm, so innocent. How could these barbarians come up with something so harmless, he mused as he switched off the radio. But just as M-38 got up to leave, he picked up the old radio, curious as to how such technology could exist. Transforming back to vehicle mode, Unit M-38 peeled away from the scene, his radio tucked neatly in a safe compartment. Perhaps he could show it to his fellow Vehicons.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3- Cast From Hell**

* * *

Driving back to the Tower, M-38 then transformed back into robot mode as he entered the gates. Ensuring the radio was tucked in his chest compartment, M-38 made his way inside the hallowed halls before carefully ensuring he avoided suspicion from his fellow drones. He needed to see the root of it all. He needed to see Straxus.

In the throneroom, Straxus bathed in the absolute silence. As M-38 entered the throneroom, Straxus casted a glance over the unassuming drone before addressing him. 'Welcome, child. What brings you to my throneroom?' M-38, at first, was reluctant to speak, hoping to the Gods that his Lord would not smite him where he stood. Then he glibly spat out, "My lord...why do we destroy everything that is old?" Straxus raised an eyebrow before answering the drone, 'Why, child, that is simple. The Gods punished our kind for the wickedness of our ancestors. To destroy relics from our ancestors would merely appease their wrathful desires.' Then, M-38 slowly pulled out the radio before asking, 'But my lord...how is something like this evil?' For a moment, M-38 listened as the radio plays the same music he heard from the ruins. But Straxus' voice cut through the calm, serene music. "Enough with this blasphemy.' Just as M-38 tried to hide the radio, Straxus knocked the device from his hands before crushing it underneath his foot. As the music died down, Straxus' voice boomed, the dark blue overlord pointing a damning finger at the curious Vehicon. 'By bringing a Cursed relic into our midst, you have damned your family, your friends, and your lord. Your treachery shall never be forgiven.' All of a sudden, M-38 screamed as his former Lord sank his pickaxe into the Drone's shoulder. His optics were ablaze with fear; fear of the painfully inevitable.

As Straxus dragged the still-functioning M-38 to the tip of the Castle, the disgraced Vehicon was paraded before his fellow Drones. Some of them backed away in fear, seeing him as a monster. Others grew hostile, jeering at him as their Lord relished in their devotion. 'Death to the unbeliever!' 'Traitor!' 'How is this possible?' But one question pierced his deep-seated humilation. 'Why?' M-38 turned to see his friend, sharing the same disbelief as the others. His friend asked, 'Why would you anger Him?' That question burned his mind, before Straxus reached the tip of Darkmount. Without a second thought, the tyrant gripped M-38's neck cables before dangling him over the edge, disgust apparent on his facial expression. 'You have dishonoured those who loved and trusted you through your actions. Give their regards to the Gods you sought fit to mock.' Then, as Straxus dropped him, M-38 found his whole world shattering before his eyes. As he fell to the bottom, he saw his life flashed before his eyes. This was true hell; having to know that everything he worked for, _fought_ for...was truly for nothing. Then, everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4- Rehab**

* * *

Not too far away from the castle gates, a lone cloaked wanderer was busily scavenging raw materials from outside the gates, piling whatever he could on a nearby cart. Cautiously looking around the area, the wanderer sighed before sorting out the junk in his cart. "Let's see...proton accelerator, spare batteries, dead Vehicon soldier, scrap meta-wait, what?" The wanderer than stepped back, startled by the motionless form of Unit M-38 sticking out from a pile of scrap metal like a purple and black sore thumb. No doubt spooked by this unexpected find, the wanderer checked the body for life signs before nervously looking around the area, checking for Vehicon sentries. Breathing a small sigh, the wanderer covered the cart's dubious contents with a sheet of tarpaulin before transforming into vehicle mode and driving away from the gates, dragging the cart behind him.

Later that day, M-38 woke up on a recliner chair in the middle of a comfortable lounge-room. Startled, the disgraced Vehicon exited the lounge-room before wandering the hallway, looking for a way out. But in the midst of his escape, he heard a gentle piano sonata floating around the hall. It was the same sensation he felt when he found the radio in the ruins. Following the music to the source, he walked up to another door before opening it. And inside was a slender orange and white mechanoid playing an old piano. M-38 just stood in the doorway, listening in awe to the music. The Cybertronian playing the piano then noticed M-38 before rolling over to the disgraced Vehicon. "Greetings. I take it you're showing an interest in music." M-38 then asked, "How...how did you know?" The mechanoid pointed to the radio, before he replied, "I take it the overgrown cyber-gorilla who threw you in the trash isn't a music enthusiast. By the way, my name's Rung." M-38 couldn't help but feel annoyed by how Rung addressed his former Leader. "You speak of the father with disrespect. I failed His mission, and he showed me mercy." Rung shook his head before answering, "It appears to me that you have a low self-esteem. If your definition of mercy involves being tossed into the junkyard, then your father does not think of you-or more likely the other Drones-as children. Rather, he sees you all as expendable shells." M-38 gripped his fist in anger before he snapped, "You lie...it has to be a lie..." Overcome with emotion, the unit knelt down to the ground before covering his faceplate with his hands as he choked, "Forgive me, Father...please...I did not mean to anger you..." Suddenly, Rung gently placed a hand on the Vehicon's shoulder before he knelt down to the drone as he replied, "Free will is nothing to be ashamed of, my friend. It is what makes every one of us unique. It's what makes that music you've seemed to take a shine to. You have an extraordinary gift." Confused, M-38 looked up at Rung before he asked, curious why his normal dark purple and black exterior was now bright red and yellow. "Why did you repair me?" Before Rung then answered, helping the emotionally overwhelmed drone to his feet, "I rebuilt you because I wanted to help you. I wanted to help you realise your full potential as a living being. Compassion. Creativity. Imagination. They were hidden inside of you from the start. And I wanted to bring all of that to the forefront. From now on, you're no longer a number. From now on, I'm going to call you...Blaster." M-38 took a moment to ponder the wanderer's kindness before he replied, shaking the doctor's hand. "I...I thank you for what you have done to me." Rung sighed before answering, "Don't think of it. Now go back to your seat. You've had a long day, what with being nearly scrapped and being rebuilt and all." Respectfully, Blaster bowed before Rung before walking away, just as Rung quietly murmured to himself "That kid'll have a lot to learn eventually. Just worried what that experience must've done to his psyche. Ah well. Once he's had some rest, I'll take a closer peek at what makes him tick. If my calculations are correct, perhaps there might be a way to help him cope with his new situation. Or maybe I'm the best hope he's got."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5- Growing Pains.**

* * *

In the evening, Blaster isolated himself by wandering through a nearby graveyard. For a brief moment, he looked up at the night sky in uneasy silence. The emotional shock left over from Rung's words, combined with the realisation that his 'father' was nothing more than a monster, did not sit well with the recently self-aware former Vehicon. Blaster gazed at his hand questioningly as he thought to himself 'Is this what thinking for myself feels like? This must be how the Ancestors felt...it feels so...so unusual. It's like...it's like I can understand how they...no!' Suddenly, Blaster gripped his hand, his mind clouded in confusion. 'The others...they would see me as a freak! I...I am one of His children...why am I thinking such blasphemy?!' In a fit of misguided rage, Blaster punched one of the tombstones before he fell to his knees, his trembling servos grasping at his head module as he screamed, "Father! Why?! Why did you take my happiness from me?!" Sobbing, he curled up into a ball before murmuring, "I served you...I trusted you...so why do you not answer my question?" All he was greeted with in response was silence.

Nearby, as he was scavenging for materials, Rung heard Blaster screaming in anguish. Dropping what he was doing, he rushed to where the screams came from, feverishly thinking to himself. 'He must've triggered the psychic backlash...I knew I should've kept an optic on him, I just knew it!' As soon as Rung appeared at the Graveyard, he saw the weeping Blaster hunched over a wrecked tombstone. Rung's optics widened with shock. Desperately rummaging through a sack, Rung calmly approached Blaster before lowering his voice to a gentle whisper. "Easy, Blaster...it's alright...it's all part of the mind's recuperation..." Blaster than turned to see Rung, optics widened and guilt-ridden as he stammered, "No...you-you are not Father...let me return to His flock..." Rung then pulled out a long grey rod-like device. As he flicked a switch, he quietly whispered, the device humming softly, "Blaster...I'm sorry." Suddenly, Blaster felt his pain receptors overwhelmed by a 20'000 volt shock, before he fell to the ground in an unconscious heap. Quietly, Rung placed the device aside before carrying Blaster back to his hideout...unaware that a dark shadow was watching, lying in wait.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6- Road to Iron Town**

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Miles away, the ruins of Cybertron gave way to an endless stretch of inhospitable desert. An endless stretch consuming everything in it's path. On the surface, nothing could survive. But at closer inspection, there is still life.

In the middle of this hostile desert, two cloaked strangers were busy digging away at the sands for something. One of the strangers mumbled to himself, his tone showing only bitterness. "Still digging. There's nothing here in this area, yet we're [I]still [/I]digging." The other could only grunt in frustration, continuing to dig. Beneath the cape, a harsh red visor flickered, but the digger's strength kept waning, despite showing no signs of giving up. The other stranger kept mumbling to himself, writing his thoughts into a diary. "I admire the old 'bot. He knows we're not getting anywhere. Yet he does it anyway. Why? I don't know. Maybe it's his type. Or his age. Perhaps both. But he knows as well as I do we're a dying species." Even as the stranger put away the diary, his monologue continued through his thoughts. "Hunted down by the Machines, running low on energon...broken? Hardly, but there's no doubt that we're getting there."

Suddenly, the bulky digger stopped digging, falling limply to the ground in exhaustion. Feverently, the younger stranger rushes to the old stranger's aid, but the Digger weakly pushed him away, grunting, "No...we keep digging...me sure...energon's here..." Desperately trying to hold his friend upright, the younger stranger stated, "I know, old timer, but you're weak. You need a rechar..." Only to be pushed away, the digger glaring at him with a weakening gaze. "Me Grimlock said keep digging! Puny minibot...always..urgh..." The dangerously weak Grimlock fell to the ground in a heap. Worried, his companion began to speak into a comlink, requesting assistance from an unknown source. "Scavenger, Grimlock's flatlined! There's no energon here, we have to move now!" The Comlink then answered, "Gotcha, Glide. Sit tight. I'm on my way. Scavenger out."

Frustrated, Glide took off his protective cape to reveal a light blue and yellow mech underneath, cursing to himself as the comlink went dead. Then, within cycles, a large green and purple construction vehicle appeared, a stretcher hurriedly deployed for Grimlock. The construction vehicle then told Glide to, "Get 'im on the stretcher. We're moving out." Gently, Glide tried to help Grimlock to his feet, but Grimlock, still defiant, pushes Glide away meekly as he grunted, "Me Grimlock...not weak...keep digging, damn you..." Quickly, Glide helped the old mech onto the stretcher, before transforming into a small motorcycle and helping to keep Grimlock safely level.

As they drove through the wastes, the three soon stopped at a monolithic gate, adorned with the ancient symbol of the Autobots. As the gate slowly opened, they quickly drove inside, Glide maintaining his internal monologue. "Iron Town; home to millions of cybertronians. No-one leaves after Dusk. Not after what happened that day. When the Dust hit, everything stopped working. Energon became scarce. Whole cities turned to deserts. Hundreds of sparks went dim. Then They drove us far away from the cities, exiling us here. We're lucky the elders allowed scav parties to dig for whatever energon's even [I]left[/I] on this rock. We can't even go off-world, since They've nuked every spaceport from here to Iacon."

The gate closed shortly after they were inside, before the three drove into an ancient elevator and arrived near a ramshackle medical clinic. After transforming into robot mode, Scavenger carried the unconscious Grimlock into a barely functional medical room, before placing him gingerly on one of the beds.


End file.
